Excerpts from Patrice Fields’ Letters from Quito, Ecuador:

Don’t leave home without it: Among the essential things that I packed was my security blanket. This blanket was given to me by my maternal grandmother when I was born. His name is Boochos. He means a lot to me because when I was afraid of the dark as a young child, he protected me from the “monsters under the bed and in the closet.” He reminds me that I am loved and that someone is always watching over me. I also have a Curious George stuffed animal that belongs to my friend Zack. He told me to keep curious until we are together again back at K so that I do not forget about him. I have the greatest friends on this planet…

Ecuador—impressions and realities: I was the only person in my extended family who had doubts about my going to Ecuador. My aunts, uncles, and cousins all know what type of person I am, so they assumed I had thought this whole thing through, and instead of asking “where did you get this crazy idea from,” they asked, “what made you choose Ecuador instead of Spain?” I chose Ecuador because I had never been to South America or the Galapagos islands. This is not to suggest that after two trips to Western Europe I believe myself to be an expert on Europe, but I really wanted to do something different—and the opportunity to see the islands that Charles Darwin used to formulate his theory of natural selection was too good to pass up.

I gained most of my information about Ecuador from the K students who had just returned from studying here, from our Ecuadorian international students, and from the books I read for my research paper. I have found that both the positive and the negative things I learned were true. Ecuador is a breathtakingly beautiful country. The mountains, waterfalls, volcanoes, volcanic lagoons, and forests here are unlike any you will find anywhere else in the world. It is also true, however, that eighty percent of the population lives below the poverty line and that the richest two percent of the population use more than half of the available goods and services. I see this difference between those who have money and those who do not every day when I ride the public bus to my university. At almost every bus stop, someone gets on the bus trying to sell you gum, ice cream, pencils, apples, or oranges or sings or plays an instrument for money. Then when I arrive at school, I see students driving up in or being dropped off by BMW's and SUV's. Another American student here told me that there was no Ecuadorian student at our school whose parents are not in the top twenty-five percent of wage earners. Like K, USFQ (San Francisco University of Quito) is not very representative of the whole of Ecuador. Only the upper class interests are represented.

The only thing I heard about Ecuador that might be considered a stereotype before I came here was that public officials including the police were very corrupt. I have not seen any of this corruption first hand, but there is a presidential election coming up the twelfth of October and every candidate includes cleaning up corruption in his or her platform. Ecuadorian students have also told me that there have been seven presidents here in the last ten years so I think there must be some deep underlying problems for that to have occurred.

I did not have very high expectations for Ecuador before coming, because the Center for International Programs told me to “be willing to accept less and to do without.” That was a bit of an exaggeration, I think. The families that we are staying with here are very much like our own families back home. They are middle class, upper middle class, or what one might call “rich.” The family I live with has three maids.

Struggles with Spanish: It is a little annoying that when Ecuadorian students know you are a native English speaker, they often will not speak to you in Spanish, because they assume that you do not understand. It seems to me that the US education system puts you at a disadvantage because no one in the U.S. is required to learn a foreign language until high school. Students in Ecuador start learning English in the third grade, so by the time they reach college, they are already fluent in English; most of us Americans have the Spanish speaking skills of a seven year old. All students at USFQ are required to take at least one class in their major in English on top of the required English rhetoric and composition classes. Students at USFQ have to master eight levels of English. This leaves me feeling disadvantaged, because everyone who has had some education speaks my language, but I struggle to speak theirs.

My greatest challenge while I am here will be gaining the confidence to express myself. In my mind, I speak nearly perfect Spanish with the vocabulary that I have amassed. In practice, things sometimes go wrong when I am not expecting to be talked to and someone asks me a question. My slight hesitation often leads people to believe that I do not understand the question when that is not the case at all. I also sometimes get English and Spanish mixed up in my head. I will be thinking of something in Spanish and then start speaking English or vice versa. I am working on this problem. I really do know what I want to say; I just need to work on getting it out. I really believe this is a lack of confidence issue.

Physical adjustments: I have also already adapted to certain aspects of living in Quito. I am now prepared to eat breakfast in the morning, which never happens in the US, and to eat my biggest meal at around midday. Because of the combined influence of the altitude and the fatigue caused by speaking Spanish all the time, it took five weeks of living here to be able to stay awake past nine o’clock. In fact, nine o’clock was stretching it a bit. Bedtime was more like right after dinner, which could have been as early as eight. I am happy to report that my mind is not feeling as overworked as it had been. I have also adapted to the altitude. I am so excited that I can now stay awake past 9 pm. I can make it to 11 pm, sleep for seven hours and feel refreshed in the morning.

Life—and meals! —with my host family: I have had some pretty good times so far with my family here. I live with the S****** family. My padre is a retired army general and currently works a civil engineer. My madre is a housewife. I have a 26 year-old sister named Tatianna who was married a year ago and two brothers, Coco, 22 and Pancho, 17. Having brothers is interesting because in the US I have only an older sister. My brothers are funny kids. They are always playing tricks on each other and their parents. My best memories of being with them are the Sunday midday meals and the Sunday we went to their country club. My family eats out at a restaurant every Sunday. It is always fun for me to try to figure out what the menu says. It is also interesting trying all these different types of food. Specifically, it was an interesting experience when I ate cuy. Cuy is the Spanish name for guinea pig, which is a very popular food here. When I think guinea pig, I think rodent-like mouse or rat. The day I ate some cuy, we were at a restaurant outside of Quito called Los tres guabos. Like most restaurants in South America, when you order cuy, you get the whole, entire cuy. When it was brought to the table, its whole body of four legs and a head remained intact. The head was facing me and I could see its little rodent-like face and teeth. My brothers told me I changed colors when I found out what we were about to eat. I did try it. It did not taste like any type of meat that I have ever had before. In other words, no, it does not taste like chicken. It was cool laughing with my brothers about my facial expressions over that meal.

Field trip: This past weekend I took my first trip for my Useful Plants class. This is a really cool class. I had no idea that there were so many plants just growing wild in the world that you could use to kill people. Every other plant that my professor told us about had seeds, leaves, or roots that could kill a human if you boiled them in water and then drank it. The focus of this trip was plants that grow at high altitudes so we went to a Paramo, a land area found at 4500 m. or more of altitude. It is cold, rains often, and has some marsh/swamp like qualities to it. There was a small amount of water flowing through it and there were lots of mud sinkholes. And, guess what— if there was a mud puddle and or hole to fall into on this plants expedition, I found it.

So my classmates and I were walking through this paramo looking for certain plants when we came to a mud puddle. It did not look too deep, and we were all wearing knee-high rubber boots, so we decided to walk through it. That was a very bad idea. That mud puddle was actually a little higher than knee deep, so muddy water rushed into my boots as soon as I stepped in. After having to remove my boots to get out of the puddle, I wrung my socks out and continued walking. We soon came to a small forest, and our professor told us that we were going to climb to the top. “Climbing” was an accurate description, because the trees grew sideways so the only way to get through was to climb over them. In theory this was a simple task because we were going single file so that no one fell into a hole. The problem was I was at the back of the single file line so by the time I made it to some of the paths there were broken tree branches and/or extra vines to weave through so I would take the next best path, which usually included a hole. In total, I fell in nine holes and three mud sinkholes. It was the most fun I have ever had in a foreign country. My entire lower half was mud-covered.

Women’s clothing, women’s images: There is a definite difference between the way women are portrayed and carry themselves here and in the US. It seems to me that women here have the role of being objects for men and they seem to have accepted this role. I have come to this conclusion based on the way I see working women and school-aged girls dress. We were told before coming here that skirts or dresses down to the knee or lower were socially acceptable, and that we should wear nothing shorter. Every morning on the public bus and in the street I see professional women going to work in short, tight skirts that are higher than halfway up the thigh with shoes with stiletto heels. The girls at my university are similar. They wear pants on a daily basis that are so tight they look as if they are painted on, halter tops, short skirts and high heels. They do not look comfortable but they still do it day after day. They wear clothes to school that most American girls would only wear to a club. This is one of the many reasons gringa girls stick out. We are the ones wearing jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers. I realize that there is a difference between the way American students dress for school and the way students in almost every other country dress for school. We tend to be more into comfort and self-expression because most schools in the US do not require uniforms. Students here, particularly the females look as if they are out to pick someone up.

Why it’s hard to meet people: I know this might sound strange, but it is very difficult to meet Ecuadorians. I get along well with my host family, but I know very few other people here. I think this is mainly because I am a little too shy and unsure of my speaking capability to strike up a conversation with a stranger. I have also found that certain ingrained attitudes exist here about Americans. For one thing, many Ecuadorian students assume that you neither speak nor comprehend any Spanish. Because of this, if a random student comes up to you and asks you a question, he or she will more than likely ask you in English. I do realize that all the students in my university here are required to learn English, but I would not expect to speak a foreign language in my native country outside of the classroom setting. I have also noted, as have other international students, that many of the female Ecuadorian students want nothing to do with American females. I have been told that this is because we have a reputation for being “easy.” I realize on this point, also, that they might just prefer hanging out with their usual circle of friends, which is something that most students in universities in the US do. I have also noticed that many of the male Ecuadorian students are really interested in getting to know you. It also seems, however, that this occurs because they think you are easy. As with young people in the US, young Ecuadorians enjoy partying and going to bars and nightclubs. Several female international students have returned from the weekend with stories of “I met this guy at a club and we were having a nice conversation when he whipped out a condom.” This is not to say that all the men here are sexual predators, but the attitudes here do create a very interesting environment.

Being a family member again: I have found living with a family again slightly challenging. Since I have not lived with my parents in the US for more than two years, I have not had to think about them when making decisions. When I am at K, if I want to go out and stay out all night or sleep in someone else’s room, I can do it. I am really only accountable to myself in that respect. Here in Ecuador, on the other hand, I am always accountable to my madre. If she does not know where her “mija” is there will be trouble. I do not consciously disappear without telling her where I will be, but it has happened since my classes have started. There have been times when my Seminario de Galapagos has run until six or six-thirty when it is supposed to end at five-thirty. At rush hour, commuting home on the bus takes about half an hour so that puts me arriving home at six-thirty or seven, when it is dark. I think this makes my madre nervous because many streets are deserted after sundown. To put her mind at ease, when my class gets out late, I call her to let her know that I am about to catch the bus and she sends one of my brothers or one of the maids to wait for me at the corner of our block.

The role of the maids in Ecuadodrian households: Living in a home with maids is also quite different because most of us have never had one in the US. For example, my host family employs three maids, Maria, Rosita, and Orga. Maria lives in a separate part of our house that you can get to by walking through the back yard. She works as a cook and cleaning lady seven days a week. Rosita works as a cook in our house Monday through Friday from 6 a.m. until 4 p.m.. Orga works as a gardener, cleaning lady, and laundry lady Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 10 am until 6 p.m.

I realize that employing maids is a regular part of life for the upper class here, but the way they are treated bothers some of us American students. Some employers will talk about how slowly the maids are working or wonder out loud why something has not been done yet while the maids are still in the room. This open disdain makes us uncomfortable. We are also bothered by the fact that the maids feel it necessary to speak to us in the usted form. The regular “you” form works just fine for me. As far as I am concerned, the third person singular should only be used when referring to someone who is not in the room when you are speaking. We don't really like the way the maids are treated, but out of respect for the fact that “this is the way things are done here,” we remain silent about it.

Reading between the lines: My madre will often expect me to know what she thinks without her actually telling me. A good example of this was September 11th. I told her that some friends and I were going to dinner at Tony Romo’s (an American style restaurant) after school on the 11th. She said "okay mija, just make sure you take a taxi home since it will already be dark." I realized at the time that this might not have been the best decision since there was a high red alert for possible terrorist acts and a number of bomb threats in the city, but I wanted to go. It was a nice dinner and we talked about what we were doing when we heard about the events of September 11, 2001. I returned home at about seven-thirty and as soon I walked in the door, my madre asked me where I had been. I reminded her I had gone to the dinner I had told her about the night before. She told me that I had done something very dangerous and that in the future I needed to think more about my safety. I respect that fact that she was angry because I realize that what I did was not the brightest idea I have ever had, but I’m now really aware that even parenting styles are “cultural.” If I had plans to do something that my mother in the US did not approve of, she would let me know a long time in advance. Her feelings on any matter are never a mystery to me. I would have felt better if my host mother had just told me that she would prefer it if I just came home. This situation taught me that I have to think more like Spanish parents and anticipate their wishes.

A problem, and how I solved it: Recently, my host brothers have only been speaking to me in English. Perhaps they think I do not understand spoken Spanish, but that does not make sense, because I speak to my host parents in Spanish. Maybe they want to practice their English, but I do not want to speak English with them here since this is my chance to improve my Spanish. I try to suggest that I would rather speak Spanish by answering them in Spanish, but I am not sure if it is sinking in since they look at me funny when I do it. If this continues, I am going to ask them to stop…

(written somewhat later) I spoke to my brothers about why they speak to me in English. They told me that they realize that I understand Spanish, but they really wanted to practice their English. I told them that I would be willing to help them with their English studies, but that I would appreciate it if they did not practice their English with me when we are with their parents, who do not speak any English.

More about women’s images and my own self-image: I mentioned before that most of the females here wear short, revealing clothes to school and work. I am not willing to do that to fit in. I am all about jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers. I still blend in to a certain extent because when the female students at my university dress down, they wear jeans, a T-shirt, and designer shoes. I am also a little outside of the apparent obsession people have with weight here. I have heard girls at my school talking about the fact that they take diet pills and only eat one meal per day. I really feel sorry for some of these women because they pop those pills like candy and they believe they do not have the right to nourishment. I am more of the healthy body/healthy mind persuasion. I need to eat and sleep in order to function properly. In fact, since I have come here I have become a fan of breakfast. I have found that when I eat breakfast I am not hungry during the day and therefore do not snack. I think all this boils down to a notion that has been ingrained in the minds of girls here that not being absolutely bone thin makes you unattractive. I am fat, but that does not make me ugly. As a matter of fact, I think I look a lot better than all these bone thin girls who starve themselves. I do not care what anyone says, seeing someone’s ribcage through her skin is not sexy. It is revolting. It is also sad, because a huge part of becoming an adult is accepting yourself and believing in your own personal worth. You cannot let other people define who you are.

I remain respectful of the fact that these things are a part of the beliefs of the majority of the people in this country, but for lack of better terms, I’ll be damned if I let someone here or in the States tell me that I should be taking diet pills. I am Patrice Renee’ Fields, the cute, pleasingly plump, intelligent gringa. And that’s the way it is, until next time…